Maybe I Am to Blame
by DevinBourdain
Summary: "Reincarnation Inc is your answer to immortality."In the year 2038, man has made immortality into a multimillion dollar industry.You can purchase a younger, healthier body to be transferred into and live another life time. Diana can't let this form of slavery go unanswered, especially when it hits too close to home.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Wonder Woman characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.  
Warnings: language and violence.  
Reviews are always welcome and appreciated

 ****** Because the movie just came out and not everyone may have had the chance to see it yet, be warned there are **SPOILERS** , huge, talks about the end of the movie spoilers **.****

*For the purposes of this story, the other DC superheroes do not exist. The photo from Veld was not given to Diana by Bruce Wayne but by other means.*

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 **Maybe I Am to Blame**

The room was dim to simulate the ambiance of candle light with gentle piano music playing softly in the background. The fine china had gold swirls dancing around the edges of the plates and glasses, echoed with the gold plated silverware. The napkins were pressed and neatly folded, set with precision on the stark white linen table cloth. The center pieces where beautiful round bouquets of deep red roses with drops of baby breath dotted throughout to break up the color. It was all designed to impress and accentuate the luxury the wealthy and upper echelon enjoyed in their dining experience.

It would probably make any other woman swoon with delight or feel like a princess but Diana barely paid it any attention. Her focus rather than her company or the ostentatious surrounds was on the couple a few tables over. The young woman had been sitting there by herself, casually drumming her manicured finger tips on the table while absently stirring her cup of tea that had long since grown cold over the hour she had been sitting. There was sadness in her eyes that spoke of disappointment and longing, something Diana could relate to, today of all days. It all melted away though when a shadow fell across the table shaking the woman out of her reverie and like a brilliant flash of light, her smile chased the despair away.

"Stefen," breathed the woman as she jumped out of her chair, wrapping her arms tightly around the young soldier that stood at her table, staring at her like a cool drink of water after an eternity in the desert. The couple embraced in a hug to end all hugs, sealing their love with a passionate kiss that made the time they had clearly spent apart disappear from memory.

The haunted look of war vanished from the soldier's eyes as he slipped into the embrace of the love of his life; all the horror and atrocities he must have faced becoming no more than ghosts of his past. This woman was his future and he now held her in his arms. "I never thought I'd get the chance to tell you how much I loved you again, Anna."

Young love, it was something Diana was always envious of. The possibilities of a future unwritten lay ahead them for them to conquer and enjoy. They had it all before them, they had a future. It looked like the kind of love that could save the world and she couldn't help but watch as it bloomed and grew before her eyes.

It was bitter sweet; a love that she fought for yet never got to experience for herself. All she had were memories of what might have been, had the day not needed saving. As much as it broke her heart she couldn't help the soft smile that slowly lit up her face at the thought of Steve.

It had been well over a century and the very thought of him still gave her a warm feeling and a bubble of joy that the sorrow of his loss couldn't diminish. She could still feel the rough calluses on his hand as he held her hand in his, the other wrapped around her waist, his face so close as they swayed gently in the night as snow began to fall. She could still hear the ache in his voice as he confessed to not knowing what it was like to live a life with someone but suddenly wanting to find out. She could still see pain in his eyes as confessed his probably short comings and place in a world that didn't deserve her in it, but his desperate need to find the strength to make it, him, worth it. Time was failing to take Steve away from her the way reality had viciously ripped him from her life.

"Diana, are you even listening to me?"

The forced romanticism of the restaurant crashed through her memory of Veld the night before the world lost one of its best examples of humanity. She turned her head back to the man sitting opposite her. "Of course I'm listening, Eric," said Diana piercing a carrot on her plate and taking a bite.

"It's a huge acquisition for Dayton Enterprises," continued Eric but Diana's eyes slid back over to the couple who was now holding hands and staring into each other's eyes instead of reading their menus.

"I mean can you imagine it? With this technology we'll never lose the greatest minds of our time. They'll be free to continue their work for forever without fear of death. Can you imagine what it would be like to live for forever? To see this form of reincarnation where you can be anyone you want? Think of all that you could accomplish, see...Diana?" Eric stopped but got no response; Diana's attention was clearly back on the couple. His fondness for her prevented any anger at her lack of attention and it wasn't the first time he found her enraptured by someone else's tender display of love.

There's love in her eyes that's hard to deny and never directed at anyone else with that kind of ferocity. It's hard not to be jealous of the person that put that beautiful smile on Diana's lips. "You're thinking about him again, aren't you?"

"Who?" said Diana, still enraptured with the live love story unfolding across from her.

Eric smiled fondly before thorwing his napkin over his plate, suddenly no longer hungry. They've worked together for years, collaborating between the auction house and Dayton Enterprises. They've seen the far reaches of the globe and touched artifacts lost to fro history together and through it all they've grown close. Much closer than friends, but not yet lovers. He's never been the cause for that smile of Diana's. It's like a private joke he's never gotten the punch line to. "Your soldier. You only ever smile like that when you're thinking of him."

Diana goes stiff for a moment. She didn't realize she was smiling like that, like the first time she saw snow. Her hand goes to cover he cheeks as she feels a blush start to creep up. Eric is the first person in more than a century that she mentioned Steve to and even then, the story was just the basic bones. Girl meets soldier, soldier dies heroically in battle, girl suffers heartbreak. She'd said his name to Eric once and never again; it felt too much like a betrayal to share him with anyone. She's never breathed his name to someone that didn't already know him, afraid that sharing his memory with an outsider might muddy and jade it. And of course any part she played in battling a god has been left to history to protect her crusade to help protect the world.

Of course she would be thinking of Steve tonight. It's their anniversary of the first time he said he loved her, of the time the day was saved with the heftiest price souls could pay. Captain Steven Trevor, the first man she ever laid eyes upon and the person who did more for her than she ever thought possible. Her smile faltered as the flickering candle light at their table grows in her mind until it resembles the fiery explosion that took Steve from this world and her life far too soon.

A hand settled over hers, warm and sure. She looked up at Eric like she had been caught in a lie. "It's alright," he assured her, a forced smile pulls his lips tight as he tried to hide his disappointment at the turn of mood tonight.

She knew it was a bad idea to go out tonight. Her misery started on November tenth and never faded until the eleventh when the world took a solitary moment to remember the sacrifices of so many for peace. Steve's name was never among the honored dead, his involvement classified and now those that new of his sacrifice all dead accept her.

"It's getting late. We should call it a night," offered Eric signalling the waiter for the cheque.

Diana nodded, giving Eric a smile that felt a little too forced. She was suddenly exhausted and the thought of being anywhere other than in bed dreaming of Steve in her arms at the exact moment the plane exploded all those decades ago is unbearable. Hopefully the world can look after itself for one night.

Always the gentleman, Eric paid for the meal and escorted her to her waiting car, telling her driver to take her straight home. He leaned through the back window of the expensive town car insisted upon by the auction house. "Don't forget about the interview with the museum tomorrow. I look forward to seeing your gorgeous face on TV, dazzling the world with your brilliance and ingenuity that unearthed those rare antiquities."

"I hate doing press," confessed Diana. "I don't know why the museum is insisting that I do the interview when they could have someone more charismatic like you. You should get the attention, Eric. It was your company that funded the venture and restoration."

"You're a knock out Diana. The camera will love you. Besides, I paid the museum a rather large sum to make sure you're the one in the spotlight. You're denying the world something special by staying in the shadows. Let them see you, see what I see in you." Eric's smile is genuine but his gaze lingered a little longer than Diana felt comfortable with. They were eyes that wanted something, something more than Diana could give him.

"You're without shame."

"Is it working?" asked Eric, standing up and straightening his coat, the late November night bringing on a chill.

Diana shook her head fondly. "Take me home please," she directed the driver. "Good night, Eric."

The car started to drive away, taking Diana with it. "Sweet dreams, Angel," called Eric.

Diana reached through the open window and waved goodbye. It was hard not to feel a little bad. Eric had offered to take her out to celebrate, not only her accomplishment in finding the painting for the museum but to celebrate Eric's companies latest acquisition and her mood had ended the night on a less than celebratory note.

Eric was one of those special friends that never questioned her disappearances or sudden cancelations. He never asked her to elaborate or explain her excuses when fighting the darkness took her way from the persona of antiquities dealer she had crafted for herself this time. It was a rare thing to find. She fought for world, to protect those who were innocent and those she cared for but that didn't leave a lot of room to foster and develop relationships that withstood the test of time. It made life lonely in a way she had never known in Themyscira or with people she shared her abilities with.

That was a hard lesson she learned with Steve, that telling people of her purpose, of what she could do, got them killed. Steve wasn't the only one that ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time believing in her and what she could accomplish. She vowed to keep Wonder Woman, as the press referred to the mysterious warrior as, away from anyone in her life.

She glanced at the clock over the fireplace as she entered her penthouse apartment. The hands slowly ticked away adding a pound of dread with each passing minute. As she changed out of her evening gown and into silk pajamas she kept her eyes fixed on the time. A hundred and twenty years since it happened and her heart still sped up as the moment drew close, like maybe this time it would play out differently and Steve would have survived; her past would be laced with memories of waking up and eating breakfast, reading the newspaper before going to work, of slow dancing to the radio at night after the children went to bed.

She turned on the TV hoping to drown out the tick tick tick of the clock. The thing that once governed Steve's life, now haunts her. It's the usual fare on, sin and vice showcased in a pretty package; all the temptation to make man stray from greatness and give into their dark nature. The news is the worst, a recap of all the tragedy that fills the world wrought by the hand of man while under the influence of no one but themselves.

" _And in financial news, Dayton Enterprise stock has risen twenty points since the purchase of Reincarnation Inc which made headline last year with the first successful consciousness transfer making immortality a commercial venture."_

Diana doesn't hear the words, just uses the voices to drown out the minutes that haunt her. They matter not. It will never be the words _I love you, Diana_ , or the song that Charlie sang in Veld. If she could go back in time and live one moment over again... She smashed her hand down on her vanity, spilling the bottle of makeup remover she left open. Finishing getting ready for bed, Diana shuts the TV off before reports of the current war plaguing the planet start. A hundred twenty years and things are still the same. Part of her is glad Steve isn't here to see that his sacrifice didn't change a damn thing in the end. Even with Ares gone, man still chooses the darkness more than the light.

She turns out the lights before crawling into the sheets. Every year she makes the promise to herself to fall asleep before ten-fifty falls and she loses Steve all over again. This year, that promise comes true, and at ten-thirty, she falls asleep with Steve's watch clutched in her hand and dreams of gently falling snow and dancing.


	2. Chapter 2

The silence of the night was destroyed by the rumble of engines and the cracks and shattering of anything that dared get under the wheels of the large armoured trucks making their way through the ruble like a rat through a maze. The black zone was empty except for the dredges of society that had fled there to seek self made shelter from the elements. Vagrants and criminals looked out of the ruble and condemned buildings like vultures looking for scraps to feast upon as the motorcade moved through the streets. No one came here if they had any other choice and desperation was a sweet dish to feed upon. It was survival of the fittest out in the black zones and outsiders were the first casualties.

Lash scanned the streets and alleyways they passed, a keen eye looking for anyone that might interfere with their mission. Standing on the gunner's platform gave him a better view of their surrounding than from inside the armoured car. At least this far into a black zone, they wouldn't have to worry about law enforcement taking an interest. Secrecy was a well worn blanket he draped himself in, following him everywhere like a shadow. It's what made him the best. He gripped his weapon tighter, itching to pull the trigger. The assault rifle offered a familiar comfort, fitting into the grooves of his hand like it was a part of him. It was a well performed dance they did now; over a hundred successful captures under his team's belt but complacently breeds mistakes and with the amount of money the client was paying them for this job, mistakes, no matter how small, could not happen. Time was the biggest enemy; there would be no second chances if the capture failed.

The motorcade came to a halt; a line of sleek black vehicles curving around the area like a deadly snake poised to strike. It was another demolished block, no different than any other in this zone or any other black zone he'd had the misfortune of having to work in. Lash's line of work rarely took him to places of repute, then again upstanding citizens rarely paid this well.

"We're here," shouted Robbie from inside, his fingers flying over his control pad. The computer screen flashed their arrival at the desired coordinates.

"You're sure?" snarled Lash. "We don't have time for you to be wrong about this." He glanced at his watch calculating the time left until extraction. Like all vessels, the next window for extraction wouldn't be for another year and by then of little value to the client. No vessel, no payment and Lash hadn't built a reputation upon failure.

Robbie looked up at Lash with confidence. "I'm sure. The client did his homework in providing source material. I've calculated it out, both time and coordinates. This is where it happened. I'd stake my life on it."

"You are." Lash nodded and jumped down onto the pavement. He wasn't here for the science behind what they did, he was the muscle, the military mind. Robbie and the other techies could have fun with their toys and equations; he just had to make sure there was a body to deliver.

"Let's get it set up," he ordered his men, pulling his leather coat tighter around his neck to fight off the winter chill. "And guard the perimeter." Desperation made people foolhardy. The value of their equipment alone could feed the people here for years, not counting the value of their future cargo. They maybe heavily armed and trained, but getting into a skirmish with locals would jeopardize the time sensitive operation.

The car doors opened and the soldiers spread out taking up sentry positions and assembling and off loading equipment. In less than half an hour they had off loaded the old military hover craft and loaded the medical cargo and capture module. It wasn't pristine but it would get the job done.

"Fifteen minutes until capture," shouted Robbie from the power station in the back of the armoured car.

The medical team exited their vehicle and grab their kits, making their way towards the capture module. They stopped before entering, all eyes fixed on the rickety hover craft that would raise them to the sky. The lead doctor turned and glared at Lash. "Is it safe?"

"Solid," uttered Lash. It wouldn't survive another firefight which is why his army contact was willing to sell it on the black market but it could still fly and that's all he needed for this job.

"You're not the one that has to go thousands of feet in the air on that thing," countered the doctor, looking a little green around the edges.

"Just worry about the merchandise, my men and I will worry about the execution, Dr Merick. I can't collect a paycheque if there's not a usable body to deliver, so I guess you're safety is my concern," hissed Lash leaning imposingly into the doctor's personal space.

Dr Merick glared back at Lash. "Kill anybody yet today you psychopath," he snapped, contempt for Lash and his henchmen's ways simmering as he side stepped the man to make his way to the module. He was the star of this show, not some mercenary that couldn't tell a syringe from a scalpel. He was about to create life where there previously had been none. That required more respect than the filthy murder in charge could ever offer.

"The night is still young, Doctor," countered Lash with an air of delight before releasing the safety off his assault rifle. Merick could save lives but he could snuff them out much faster and on a much larger scale on whim. That was a far greater power than any medical degree could boast. A cruel smile curled his lips as he said, "Ten minutes doctor."

The doctor clenched his hands tightly around the medical kits in his hands. He was the top of his field working with the cutting edge of science, yet he was being hauled out into no man's land to obtain vessels with a mercenary calling the shots. If he wasn't getting paid as well as he was, he'd leave these snatch and grab jobs to someone with a death wish. The job of stabilizing a vessel was hard enough without having to do it on the run while watching for rebels, freedom fighters and crime lords in the depths of the dark zones away from civilized people. It certainly didn't come with the glory it deserved; the truth being kept from the public at large in regards to the main source of vessels.

"Are we all prepped?" asked the doctor, looking at his team of nurses. They all nodded and took their seats as the pilot started the hover craft. A succession of clicks echoed through the module as safety belts locked in place. He offered Nurse Sampson a reassuring smile as she tried to hide the tremor in her hands.

The craft went straight up in a jerky motion, the people inside the module gripping their harnesses tightly. Eventually the shaking stopped, the craft floating in the air like a cloud. The pilot turned to the medical team and announced, "We're at the coordinates. Prepare for capture in three minutes doctor."

Lash watched as the craft hovered in the clouds, its scared outer haul and worn paint job corroding the pristine picturesque skyline. This was the first time he had to implement an air vehicle in capture. Most people had the decency to pick a vessel that could be captured at ground level. He tapped his radio. "Robbie, begin capture sequence."

"Starting sequence now," replied the tech, already tapping out commands. His eyes danced across the various screens as he fired up the equipment. His focus was laser solid, anything less would throw away months of work and millions of dollars.

The laser platforms strategically placed in a hexagon on the ground around the hover craft's position hummed to life, lighting up as the charge within built up until the light exploded from the top cutting through the sky and bathing everything in an ethereal violet light. The gears whirled as the laser beams were directed into position forming a grid above the hover craft.

"One minute and counting," confirmed Robbie over the radio system. He punched in the sequence to initiate the temporal shift.

The roof of the hover craft peeled back, exposing the module to open sky above it. The laser grid shimmered just above the medical teams' heads as they prepared the exam table for their patient. The air crackled with anticipation, nerves and excitement trying to distract the medical team from their well practiced craft.

"Ready in ten," called Robbie, already prompting the equipment to launch. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four."

The lasers hummed louder, their charge building a pulse that shot straight along the violet trajectory.

"Three,

Two,

One."

The pulse climbed towards the sky like fireworks, coming to a grand finally above the craft in a blinding burst of light. A sliver of a tear ripped through the fabric of space and time, creating a silver crack that ran through the navy fabric of the night sky like a fault line, grabbing the target and yanking it through. A shock wave of energy exploded out from the grid rolling out in all directions like ripples in a pond until it disappeared into the universe casting the world back into black.

A thud sounded in the module as the smoke and light was fading. Immediately one of the nurses punched the button closing the roof and sealing the team and the vessel away from the elements.

Merick coughed as the smoke stung his lungs, but moved to the body that had appeared on the exam table. He scanned his eyes over the vessel, the skin visible seemed unmarred and the old style jacket and pants didn't look like they were concealing any major injuries. "Let's get him hooked up to the scanners and get him stabilized," the doctor ordered. "Pay particular attention to his head and lung scans. Watch out for concussive injuries. This was a grab job from an explosion."

The module quickly filled with beep and chirps as the medical team began to hook up monitors and fulfill their scans. It was like a well rehearsed ballet as the team manoeuvred around one another to attach leads, IVs and an oxygen mask.

"Grab the paddles," ordered the doctor as the monitor displayed the expected lack of heartbeat. Capture happened mere nanoseconds before death occurred but the temporal displacement often initiated system failure in the vessels as they were ripped out of near death and plunged back into the world.

"Charging," said Sampson as she passed them over.

"Clear," yelled Merick before lowering the paddles onto the man's chest and depressing the button to release the electric shock.

The monitor spike briefly but soon returned to its uninspired flat line. "Again."

The body arched off the table as the pulse ran through it. His head lolled slightly at the jolt and then he gasped, sucking in his first breath of air since appearing in the module.

"We have a heart beat," reported Sampson. "Readings are starting to stabilize."

"We have successful capture," reported the doctor, grabbing the radio.

"Understood," acknowledged Lash.

"We have a hostile at five o'clock," shouted one of the soldiers over the radio. The claim was punctuated by the appearance of a rocket launcher from the dark depths of the shadows. The ordinance whizzed past the motorcade slamming into the remnants of an old brick building bring the last of the structure to its knees. Immediately the soldiers closed ranks and began firing on the intruders. Their main goal to protect the capture module and the cargo within.

"Bring that module back down," shouted Lash into his radio. Hovering the air, it was a sitting duck. "Doctor, you'll have to prepare the vessel on the go. We have company. It's a dine and dash now."

The medical team shared worried glances as the order came in. The procedure was delicate enough without factoring motion and a fire fight into the mix. The pilot began his decent back to the ground as one of the nurses secured the vessel to the gurney.

"Initiate the I62 drip and prepare for memory wipe," ordered the doctor as he prepared a syringe. The bright blue liquid rushed into the needle as Merick pulled back the plunger. Nurse Sampson pulled the bulk metal arm of the requested machine and placed it so it hovered over the vessel's head.

A soft groan came from the vessel as his head rolled from side to side. Sampson fastened the restraining strap across his head just as he cracked open a pair of the most vivid blue eyes she had ever seen. They were barely open yet so expressive, conveying sorrow, loss and fear; it pulled at her heart. This was the part of the job she despised, the last moments of a life before they erased it completely.

"What's happ'ing," he slurred.

"Shhhh," she hushed, gently brushing aside an errant stand of dirty blond hair from his forehead. All his pain and suffering would be over in a matter of moments but she couldn't help but try and sooth some of it away now. If Merick's information was correct and they did pull the vessel from an explosion than the moments before this would have been horrific. He deserved a little peace, even if it was a false platitude and gentle touch.

The hover craft shook violently knocking everyone off their feet. The doctor went tumbling into one of the seats, the syringe in his hand shattering on the floor. The lights flickered before the world tilled sideways and everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**November 1918**

Steve pressed the watch into her hand and left. If he stayed one more second, he'd lose his nerve and stay with Diana. This was so much bigger than both of them and while he wanted to be selfish, what kind of world would Diana have if he failed at this? She deserved the kind of world she talked about. The one where peace filled men's hearts because Ares, the god of war, whom Steve still wasn't entirely sure he was willing to completely believe yet, was destroyed along with all the weapons crafted by the hands of man.

He pushed all thoughts about tomorrow, waking up with Diana in his arms, out of his mind and fought to get on the plane carrying Dr Maru's gas. There was only going to be one casualty because of it tonight if he could help it.

The blow to the head as he entered the plane left him momentarily dazed as he collapsed back against the metal side of the plane. Adrenaline was pumping hard through his veins giving him the energy to push past the pain and throw the pilot out of the plane. Personal injury didn't matter anymore; all he had to do was get the plane higher, further away from the friends and people counting on him.

He slipped into the pilot's seat, comforting in its familiarity despite the task that lay before him. His hands flew over the controls initiating lift without conscious thought. The plane took off down the runway and climbed through the air, reaching towards the heavens. There was something magical about taking flight. It was what he fell in love with the first time he sat in the pilot's seat; a freedom that he'd never felt before and constantly chased.

Steve caught a quick glimpse of the chaos and destruction that he was leaving behind at the airfield but he pushed it out of his mind. Diana would keep his friends safe in a way he never could. But this, this was what he could do. Save today, to protect tomorrow, to let Diana save the world.

Higher and higher the plane went chasing open sky and a safe distance to blow up the gas. A sick panic feeling welled up inside of him. This was it, the last thing he was ever going to do. He always suspected when he joined the war that he wouldn't see the end, but now that the moment was here he wasn't sure he had the strength to be the one to pull the trigger. It was one thing for the enemy to do it, he had no control over that, but to do it himself; was he strong enough? He looked back at the payload lining the inside of the plane. Enough gas to devastate all of England and turn the tide of the war. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of him. It all rested on his shoulders now. He knew this was a bad idea when Diana demanded to go to the front back in London but Diana had been so sure she could save mankind; it was hard to deny that kind of conviction.

He raised his gun and pointed it at the weapons. At least he knew exactly what he was dying for. A feeling of acceptance washed over him as his last seconds ticked by, unmarked by the clicking of his father's watch, now safely in Diana's care. He closed his eyes and took a deep fortifying breath. His finger refused to close around the trigger.

A week ago he wouldn't have cared. It would have been his duty and nothing more; the goal he had set out to accomplish when he stopped ignoring what was going wrong with the world and took action. He long believed he wasn't cut out for the life of an average man. The wife, house and children seemed monotonous and predictable and unappealing; claustrophobic when compared to flying.

Now he was hesitating. For the first time he actually wondered what domestic life would be like. What would it be like to wake up next to Diana and watch the sunlight dance across her skin as the sun rose in the sky? Maybe there was something profound in the act of promising to love someone for forever. Wasn't that what he had been trying to protect for others all along anyways?

Disappointment and outrage flooded his veins; the universe was a cruel place. He finally found something worth living for and his card was already punched. The thing he wanted more than anything else was back on that tarmac and he was hurtling towards oblivion.

Steve swallowed past the lump in his throat. It wasn't meant for him. Happiness with Diana wasn't in the hand he'd been dealt. It wasn't meant for him but he could give it to her. He could give her the world she envisioned, where she'd be happy and safe and find love with someone who was truly worthy of her. It wasn't going to be him, but god it felt amazing to have just stood in her light for a fleeting moment.

His finger curled around the trigger, the pressure building until the click of the firing pin roared in the confines of the plane and the recoil of the gun ran up his arm. And then there was nothing.

* * *

 **November 2038**

The warmth embrace of nothingness shattered in a blinding all consuming explosion of purple and silver light. The intensity of it should have been painful and hot but there was nothing but the sensation of freefall. Steve's back slammed painfully against something hard, knocking the air out of his lungs. He tried to suck in another breath but his lungs wouldn't cooperate fully. As quickly as the light appeared, it vanished leaving darkness and smoke in its wake. The smoke burned his lungs, choking him and leaving him wheezing.

Somehow he expected death to be more painful or maybe less. The explosion should have obliterated everything which would either be momentary agony for him or if there was some kind of mercy to the universe, he would feel nothing, but this wasn't what he had been expecting at all. He felt detached like he was on the edge of the world while it continued to turn without him. The thought of Diana burned bright within him steeling his resolve that no matter what faced him in death, he'd made the right decision; he's done something instead of doing nothing.

There was noise and movement happening around Steve but he couldn't make his body obey a single command; the simple task of opening his eyes akin to pushing a bolder up a mountain. There were voices in the distance, distorted like he was underwater, coming from all around, conveying an urgency he couldn't understand. He'd always been bright but his genius was reduced to mush as he couldn't even decipher the world around him or master the movement of opening his eyes. It should have been alarming, it was alarming but the spark of panic failed to ignite anything within him. It was like his soul had been sucked out and stuffed back in as a fragile skeleton no longer able to support his being.

He was slipping under the darkness again, back into its gentle lull and welcoming arms. It wouldn't be so terrible; the darkness was peaceful unlike the chaos, blood and death he had been a part of before he pulled the trigger. The world was pulling away, getting further and further away from him until all he could hear was a distant word: _clear_.

Consciousness snapped back to Steve. It took all his strength to part his lips in a desperate attempt to pull in a breath. Panic flared in his chest focusing his wandering thoughts when he couldn't convince his starving lungs to fulfill his request. Everything ached, there was no one singular point he could pinpoint as the source but he lacked even the strength to curl in on himself and try and ease the discomfort. Death should have been instant; there shouldn't be any time to linger and suffer. Had Diana found away to pull him from the plane at the last minute? The distant hope that maybe there would be tomorrow, maybe he would know what it was like to wake up next to her every morning for the rest of his life anchored him in the raging storm of pain and disorientation that was trying to sweep him under. He whispered her name, a sweat prayer upon his lips but his saving angel failed to appear.

There were hands on Steve, poking, probing, pulling at his clothes and tipping his head from side to side. A bright white light was shined in his eyes sending a wave of pain through his skull like an axe. It was enough to shake the fog that had been dulling his senses loose and like a switch being flipped the world came crashing back in crystal clarity. There were beeps and people shouting what sounded like medical orders. The words were in English but still foreign to him and hardly reassuring.

He tried to fight as something was strapped to his face but lacked the strength to raise any meaningful protest. He was helpless and at the mercy of the vultures circling him. Cool air began to flow out of the mask, easing some of the protest in his lungs but not ebbing the dull pain that weighed down his whole body. His head was spinning and stomach rolling making it hard to tell which way was up and which was down. He was better than this, he was a spy and trained to assess his surroundings and situation but he still felt so detached and distant.

The familiar sounds of battle raged just beyond the dark walls and unfamiliar faces floating around him. It's comforting in a sadistic way; the sound of death has become familiar and normal over the last few years, as have the lies and the secrets. He isn't sure he can navigate a world without the war anymore or comprehend what peace actually looks like. Suddenly everything began to shake and tremble and Steve was overcome with the sensation of decent, not unlike when he brought his plane in for a landing, but how was that possible if he was in a hospital? Was he in a hospital? The activity around him increased as what appeared to be nurses and doctors began organizing supplies and issuing orders.

Steve licked his dry lips. He wanted to ask what was happening, where was he? No one could survive what he did and yet, here he was, very much alive. He also thought gods and magical islands were fairytales from history but then he met Diana, so what did he know? Something was wrong though, something beyond the unbearable ache that refused to release him from its grip; he could feel it in every fiber of his being. There was a wrongness in the air that despite the fact he appeared to be in the hands of medical professionals, he wasn't safe.

Out of the corner of his eye Steve watched as a nurse pulled over some strange piece of equipment and manoeuvred it over his head. It was like nothing he's ever seen before and couldn't even begin to hazard a guess as to its purpose. His heart began to pound in his chest as fear began to wake up from its dormant slumber. What if this was some lab of Dr Maru's and he was a prisoner or the enemy? He'd seen what she was capable of, what she did to the poor souls in her clutches and had no desire to experience it firsthand. He'd rather experience death in that plane and thousand times than that.

Steve tried to pull away, his head lulling to the side slightly. A groan escaped instead of the thousand questions that were racing around his tender head. Gentle hands that couldn't possibly belong to the enemy carefully pulled his head back and fastened a thick strap across his forehead. Steve cracked open his eyes again hoping to see that the gentle touch belonged to Diana; at least then he'd know everything was going to be alright.

It wasn't Diana standing over him, nor Charlie or Chief or Sameer. A wave of despair washed over him, flooding him with sorrow and fear. It was too much to take in right now and he needed his friends to help him make sense of everything that had happened, of what was happening now.

"What's happ'ing," he slurred. He needed answers. Not just about his own well being and future but about the people that meant the world to him; the ones he chose to save the world for. Being alive after he chose to sacrifice himself would be meaningless if they hadn't escaped too.

"Shhhh," the nurse hushed, gently brushing aside an errant stand of dirty blond hair from his forehead. She looked genuinely concerned and apologetic for his current state. But there was a sadness lurking in the depths of her eyes, one Steve had seen a thousand times before, right before someone did something they thought they shouldn't.

His hand despite his wrist being strapped to the bed, latched onto the nurses wrist, surprising both of them. Her skin was soft and warm under his touch, something firm and real in what still felt like a wistful dream in the final moments of life. "Diana," he breathed, soft and lovingly because he needed to know if she won, if she survived to see the beautiful world she spoke of.

Everything shook violently, rattling Steve's bones and knocking everyone else off their feet. The lights flickered before everything tilted sideways and then flickered out.

It was pitch black and Steve had nothing but his frantic breaths and pounding heart to ground him in it. The gunfire still raged outside, sounding even closer than it did before. The high pitched whistle of an incoming ordinate breached Steve's ears sending his panic into overdrive. He frantically tugged at the restraints around his wrists and feet, looser now, but nowhere near ready give up their prize.

The world rocked violently again, accompanied by the sound of metal and earth being beaten into submission. The darkness was ripped open as the wall at the opposite end of the room Steve's trapped in tears away exposing the outside world and raging war taking place outside. Fire burned bright and hot, beginning to spread causing the already panicking medical staff to give into frantic survival.

When everything stopped shaking and turning, Steve found himself strapped to a gurney lying on its side. The medical staff's attention was clearly diverted towards escape from the raging fire trying to engulf the room. With one final pull, the restraints finally released, no longer able to with stand Steve's struggles and the chaos throwing the gurney around.

Steve's face hit the floor as he flopped off the gurney, unable to get his arms out to break his fall. He laid there for a moment, trying to get his breathing and senses back under control. His limbs were useless at his side, resembling gelatin more than the capable hands that saw him through countless battles. The events unfolding outside were still a mystery but one thing became clear as he stared at the fire dancing around the newly formed hole in the side of the room; he had to get out.

The process to find his sea legs was painfully slow, but he managed to pull himself up and take a few shaky steps towards the route out he could see. He shuffled towards safety, the scene eerily familiar to the one that played out minutes ago? Hours, days, weeks ago maybe? Steve realized he still had no idea how long ago it had been since he decided to fly a plane full of dangerous gas on a one way trip to the heavens.

A hand clamped tightly around his shoulder, yanking him back with embarrassing ease. His unsteady feet tipped and stumbled but the hand around his arm managed to keep him up right.

"Where do you think you're going?" demanded the doctor, his arm raised and ready to strike out at Steve with a syringe of bright blue liquid.

Instinct took hold of Steve, driving his fist firmly into the doctor's jaw. The effort left him panting, but his opponent on the ground with the syringe safely out of reach. These people clearly weren't here to help him. The only thing for a well trained spy to do when he found himself potentially in the hands to the enemy was to escape. Taking a deep breath he ran towards the flames, jumping over them and throwing himself through the hole the explosive tore through the wall.

He hit the ground hard, fresh scrapes and cuts bit into his flesh as he rolled away. The doctor's voice cut through the night behind him, "You can't escape!" That was the red flag Steve needed to know he couldn't stay with those people. The good guys didn't tell you you couldn't escape them if they were trying to help you.

Steve loves to prove people wrong and doesn't hesitate to take advantage of that goal tonight either. His movement was uncoordinated and shaky but he gets to his feet again. He was out in the open with a war playing out around him something that was as common as seeing the sunrise. This he could do, this was his skill set. He looked around for a place to find cover but what he saw wasn't anything he had seen before. The vehicles and weapon were unlike those he had become intimately familiar with the last few years. The guns going off around him were hand held yet producing the damage the large artillery back home managed. The clothes were odd; these armies weren't from any nation he'd fought for or against. Everything seemed unbelievable like the world described by the old radio shows about the future and aliens he used to listen to before bed as a child. How much time did he lose? Did the allies know about these kinds of weapons?

Through all the chaos he managed to catch the eye of one soldier; a man in black who seemed to zero in on Steve like he was some sort of prize. A chill passes through Steve, like that stare could have pierced his soul if the man was a little closer. He knows the enemy when he sees them and that man was clearly the enemy. Steve takes his first step to run as the man yells, "The vessel is trying to escape, run him down, but bring him back unharmed."

The focus of several men who were firing at targets lurking behind the ruins around the motorcade turn towards Steve. He puts every last ounce of his reserve he has into running. He doesn't know where he's going but getting away is the first problem to be solved. The sound of heavy footsteps followed him as he ran and soon the rattle of gun fire accompanied it. So much for the unharmed part.

He turned down different walk ways and streets as he ran hoping to lose the men in pursuit. It wasn't like he could get lost if he didn't know where he was to start with. All he had was a general direction: away from the people trying to recapture him. He could get his bearings after he lost his pursuers; if he lived that long.

The men following were relentless, sticking to him like glue. Steve's energy was waning and with it the thought of escape. He looked around frantically for some place to hide but the ruins and dilapidated buildings looked uninviting and hazardous. Weighing his options, Steve decided to try his luck and brave the uninspiring crumbling shack across the street.

With the voices of his pursuers closing in he took his first couple of steps towards the shack. The metal grate under his feet groaned and whined before buckling under his weight. The ground fell from under his feet and his flailing arms failed to grab anything solid to hold on to. He landed hard at the bottom of a stone tunnel, his fall slightly cushioned by the three feet of water running through the tunnel. He choked on the foul tasting water as he fought to get himself into a sitting position. Wet and aching, he pressed himself to the side of the drainage tunnel and held his breath as he listened for the gunmen to pass him by.

He sat frozen for what seemed like forever after he heard them pass, afraid to move a muscle and give away his impromptu hiding spot. He stared up at the access hole above waiting and trying hard not to think too much about the situation and the thousand questions that were circling him like a shark. They were questions he couldn't begin to find answers to until he got out of wherever the hell he was and dwelling on them was only going to fuel the panic that threatened to consume him.

When his teeth started to chatter and his body tremble from the cold wet surroundings, he found the determination to get to his feet. His muscles pulled and spasmed at being called upon after being so cramped and still and Steve swayed slightly. There was no way he was going to be able to climb up the smooth walls of the shaft leading back to the street. The only way was to slog through the tunnel and hopefully to freedom. He took a deep breath and started forward into what was the longest night of his life. Hopefully he could find his friends when he got to the end of the tunnel and figure out what the hell was going on.


End file.
